


An Appointed Season

by Yours_Truly_Commander_Shepard



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A Sweet Period Sex Story, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, CVS, Crack, Desk Sex, Devoted Reylo, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Kinktober 2019, Nosebleed, Oral Sex Via Saran Wrap, Period Sex, Pining, Soft Ben Solo, Tampons, kink prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 16:41:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20877377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yours_Truly_Commander_Shepard/pseuds/Yours_Truly_Commander_Shepard
Summary: Who the hell would steal tampons from the employee bathroom?——————Rey gets her period, Ben gets a nosebleed, and everyone gets a happy ending.For Kinktober 2019- "Terrified Arousal"





	An Appointed Season

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my mothers, Jeeno2 and KyloTrashForever, for the beta and all their kind encouragement.

“Bloody hell,” Rey snarls, examining the empty box that formerly held her emergency tampons. It should contain at least two; Rey stashed it under the sink in the employee bathroom three months ago for an eventuality like today. Rey’s period is a day early, she’s wearing a white skirt, and she has not a single tampon floating anywhere in her purse or cubicle.

As if to emphasize Rey’s displeasure, her abdomen gives an emphatic pulse of discomfort. “Quiet down, you,” Rey mutters at her uterus. 

There’s only one other woman working at Snoke Classic Cars, and Phasma’s eight months pregnant. The customers would hardly pass up the ostentatious brass and marble public restroom for the pee-smelling closet the employees are restricted to. That means that one of Rey’s coworkers has tossed out her tampons out of spite. 

Not for the first time this morning, Rey considers murder.

She wanted to murder Hux when he took the last cup of coffee and didn’t make more.

She wanted to murder Mitaka when he double-parked in the last two spaces on the ground floor of the garage.

She wanted to murder Snoke when she opened her pay statement and saw that he still hadn’t paid her June commissions.

Yeah, in retrospect, she should have figured out her period was coming early even before her morning break.

Rey stuffs toilet paper into her underwear and waddles off to the rest of her shift, cursing men.

* * *

“Have you guys gotten your June commissions yet?” Rey asks when she returns to the bullpen where the salespeople await new customers. Poe and Finn are the only ones still ready for walk-ins; Rey can see Hux out on the floor with his lips pressed firmly to the ass of a Baby-Boomer with cash to burn, and Phasma’s closing a ’34 Ford down the hall. 

“No, why?” Finn asks. 

Rey frowns. “I could have sworn Hux said he got paid for July already.”

“What an ass. He’s probably lying,” Poe says lazily. He’s twirling an iron gear shaft like a baton; he has a sales shtick about ‘the way they used to make them,’ even though he drives a Tesla. If Poe and Finn are both at loose ends, that means Rey’s third in line for any walk-ins; she might as well resolve some of her other problems. 

Rey frowns. “I’m going to ask Ben about it. Think he’ll tell me?” 

Ben runs Internet sales and IT generally. He doesn’t cut the checks, but he can probably access all the records. 

For reasons not immediately apparent to Rey, Finn breaks into snickers at the mention of Ben’s name. 

“Oh sure. Probably. He’ll send you an email a few hours after you ask him,” Poe says, sharing a nasty grin with Finn.

Rey looks from face to face, but they say no more.

“Okay, I’m not getting something,” she says. “Why is Ben going to send me an email about my pay?”

They break into fresh giggles. Poe actually reaches out for Finn’s shoulder as though he needs the support. 

Rey’s not in a mood to be fucked with after the morning she’s had, so she begins to crack her knuckles in an ominous way. 

Finn, of course, breaks first. 

“Dude. Rey. Baby girl. Honey bunches. Ben Solo would hack into the payroll system and  _ give _ you Hux’ paycheck if you asked him to. The poor asshole gets anime-style nosebleeds and heart-eyes every time you so much as look at him. Did you not notice him sprinting from the kitchen as soon as you started yelling about the coffee being out this morning?” 

Rey blinks. That’s news to her. She thinks of Ben as one of the only people who actually does his job in this hellscape. Why would he be intimidated by her? She keeps her head down, meets her sales targets, tries to treat her coworkers with respect. 

Maybe she’ll go talk to him before her eleven o’clock. If her eleven o’clock actually comes in. Lando loves his vintage muscle cars but has no sense of time. He’s Rey’s best customer, but waiting on him can take up her whole day.

“I’m going to go ask him about it,” Rey resolves. “If Snoke’s paying some commissions and not others, I’m burning this place to the ground.”

Finn and Poe give her matching Cheshire Cat grins. 

“Get it, girl,” Poe tells her. 

* * *

The door to Ben’s office is not quite shut. He’s got the only office in the basement; the rest of the space is devoted to storage. Rey stands in front of it for a moment, fidgeting and fixing her hair. She checks the back of her skirt — still stain free, thank God. Even if she can’t make it to the store until her afternoon break, she should be okay on day one.

“Heyyy, Ben, got a minute?” she calls, pushing the door open slowly. 

Ben’s back is to her. His chair faces the opposite wall where his monitors are set up. His desk is a massive, eighties-style piece that traps him in the middle of a ‘U’ of solid mahogany, banged to hell and probably inherited from the previous tenants. At her voice, he startles violently and swings around, hands covering his face.

Just not quickly enough to obscure the blue strings of the tampons dangling from each nostril.

Rey makes a noise that combines the auditory qualities of a snort, a laugh, and a gasp. Ben jerks the tampons out of his nose, and a small trickle of blood oozes down to his lips. Ben starts to swear, and pulls several tissues from a box on his desk rapidly.

It’s only then, with the visual cues of the used tampons (Day 3-ish), the tissues, and Ben’s bloody nose, that Rey puts it together.

“You!” she yells, pointing at Ben with great and righteous fury. He is the tampon thief! He is the reason she has a pound of single-ply toilet paper shoved into her panties!

Ben quails in the face of her anger. He licks blood off his upper lip. Folds his massive shoulders to look smaller and less threatening. “I can…I guess I can’t explain.”

He puts his forehead down on his desk. His grapefruit-sized fists fall next to his head, still clutching bloody tissues and tampons. “I get nosebleeds when you look at me,” he mumbles sadly into the wood. 

“This is theft,” she tells him, undeterred. “It’s illegal. It’s contrary to the Employee Manual. And it’s wrong.”

“I thought I’d have a chance to replace them before you needed them!” Ben says in a rush, jerking his head up. “I didn’t think you would notice if I got them tonight…”

He clamps his jaw shut, realizing he has said too much. 

Rey clenches her own hands into fists. 

“How,” she manages to say evenly, “do you know when I have my period?” 

Ben looks up at her, lips pale and trembling. 

Rey smacks the wall next to her. “How??” If he is doing anything other than stealing her tampons from the bathroom — like spying on her—she really is going to have to kill him and burn his body. 

“It’s not creepy,” he says in a small voice. Rey raises an eyebrow. “Okay, it’s a little creepy that I notice. But you only wear pants one week a month. You’re not wearing pants today.”

Rey affixes him with a new glare. “I wasn’t expecting to get my period today. Which is why I  _ really needed _ my emergency tampons.” 

Ben raises his palms in submission.

“Look, I’m so, so sorry. Let me replace them. I’ll go right now. I’ll buy whatever you want.”

Ben’s face is very expressive. His glasses magnify his big brown eyes to the point that he looks like a Disney animal sidekick. 

His offer mollifies her a little. She can’t leave until she’s done with Lando. If Ben’s able to go by the store for her, that would be useful, at least. 

Rey crosses her arms under her breasts. She would like to yell at him for a little longer. But his ready acquiescence gives her a different idea.

“Replacement tampons would be a good start, but that’s not going to cut it. I’m stuck at work until my customer comes in,” she tells him. “So, you are going to need to get me everything on my period shopping list, and then  _ maybe _ we’ll call it even and I won’t report you for being a tampon thief.” 

She grabs a piece of paper off his desk and scribbles down what she wants. She hands it to him wordlessly.

When he scans the list, his eyes widen. 

“Are you…are you sure you…wait, where would I even get all this?” he stutters.

She almost wants to tell him that it’s his problem, not hers, but then again she really does want him to come back quickly.

“You should be able to find everything at the big CVS down the block,” she says. “And since I’m going to bleed on your desk chair whilst watching nature videos until you get back, I suggest you hurry.” 

He stares at her, no doubt trying to decide if she’s kidding or not. She’s not.

She tilts her head, employing the same expression she uses when Hux thinks about poaching one of her customers. 

He spreads his palms again. “I’ll be right back.”

* * *

The YouTube search history on Ben’s work computer is unrevealing. He looks at trade shows, the company shareholders’ meeting, and crockpot dinner tutorials. He had to be watching porn on his phone. Nobody is  _ that _ boring. 

True to her word, Rey is watching “50 greatest lion kills” on Ben’s computer, her skirt carefully fluffed over the back of the seat, when Ben returns. 

He shuts the door behind him when he re-enters his office, which Rey finds slightly interesting. 

She hears him shuffle closer. He clutches a large plastic shopping back in his hands. 

“Okay,” he says. “Here it is.”

Rey swivels the chair a bit and squints up at him. 

“Did you get everything?” she asks in a cool voice.

Ben runs the tip of his pink tongue over his lips in a nervous gesture.

“Here are your Tampax Pearls,” he says first, pulling the box out of the bag and setting it next to her. 

It isn’t even the brand Rey prefers, but they are more expensive than her usual kind, so she’ll allow it.

“Your Aleve,” he plunks a family-size box next to the tampons. 

“Your Haagen-Dazs,” a pint of chocolate ice cream joins the line-up.

Ben seems to hesitate over the next items. Rey clears her throat.

“Your Huggies unscented baby wipes,” he says in a slight waver. “Your ShamWow. And two pairs of black cotton women’s underwear, size small.” He says the last in a rush, dropping the panties as though they burn his fingers. 

She doesn’t really need the Sham-Wow, but it will come in handy someday, and the idea of him wondering exactly how much she planned to bleed on his chair pleases her. 

Ben’s silence now is expectant. 

Rey clucks her tongue. 

“Benjamin, that wasn’t all that was on my shopping list.” 

He sighs, scrubs his hand through his hair.

“I might be out of line saying this…”

She laughs. The tampon thief is worried about boundaries.

“But I wasn’t sure about buying you the ‘personal massager’ and  _ Pluggaloo _ magazine,” he concludes, clutching the bag to his chest. 

Rey strives to keep her face serious. 

“Ben, I need those.”

A vibrator and a gay porn mag are key coping methods for when she has bad cramps. 

His face is miserable. “I don’t- I don’t see why.”

Rey rolls her shoulders ostentatiously.

“Since you are so interested in women’s health, Benjamin, you should know that orgasms are very effective against period cramps,” she says in her best schoolteacher voice.

“Oh,” Ben says, staring at the last two items in the bag. “I thought you were just trying to shame me in front of the cashier.” 

Rey gives him a judgmental look. “The tampons wouldn’t do it?”

Ben shrugs. “Well, there’s now one guy in the world who thinks I could have a girlfriend.” 

Ow, her heart. 

“Even so, I still don’t think they’re necessary,” Ben says after a long minute. 

Rey taps her fingers on the desk. Off to her right, the lions are chomping an antelope on Ben’s screen, but Rey no longer feels aggressive. Or at least, another primal emotion is beginning to replace aggression as her top motivation.

The longer Ben looms over her, licking his full, red lips and watching her with that solicitous look in his eyes, the more she thinks that she is going to need to take a long break in the employee bathroom after this little meeting. Or maybe she could kick Ben out of his office. 

“I just think…you have other options,” Ben says. 

Rey’s eyes flick up to his face. Ben shifts his weight, hiding his pelvis behind the bag. 

“If you, um, really need an orgasm…like for medical reasons…I’d be happy to try,” he mutters very quickly. 

Rey leans further back in Ben’s chair, eyeing him from head to toe. The company polo shirt and pleated khakis aren’t doing anything for his figure but can’t completely disguise his snack-like build. She could do far worse than muscular and obliging at this moment of need. 

“You realize, there’s, like, a situation down here,” she says, gesturing at her lap. “It’s like the Death of Marat.”

Ben shakes his head vigorously, an expression of hope dawning on his face.

“I don’t mind. I totally don’t mind.” 

Rey pretends to think about it a little longer. It’s been a long, metaphorically dry spell since her last boyfriend, and having procured her ice cream and tampons, Ben is already filling the role better than her ex ever did. 

“You realize, if there are no orgasms for me, I’ll probably have to kill you and burn your body,” she tells him. 

He nods, hair flopping over his glasses. 

“And I don’t like…well, usually, I only come from oral,” Rey sighs. “You might be better off just deploying the massager.” 

Ben actually smiles at that. He digs into the bag and pulls out a roll of Saran Wrap. 

“I, uh, actually I thought about that,” he says. “I think I’m prepared.”

“Oh my God,” Rey says, pressing a hand to her chest. “You sure are. Were you a Boy Scout?” 

“Well,” he says. “Let’s just say, I don’t expect to need a compass.”

* * *

Rey can’t lie and say she doesn’t find it a little bit impressive when Ben does the thing — the thing where the guy dramatically sweeps his desk clean with a big strong arm — even if he does put his stapler carefully on the sideboard before he knocks everything else to the floor. 

When she asks him to take off his clothes, he gets very excited before he realizes that she just wants something soft to lie on while she reclines on his desk. She feels a little bit like a queen when she sits down on a pallet made of his pants and polo shirt, all topped by the spread ShamWow. 

Ben is wearing only his tented white briefs and a nervous grin. She made him turn around when she ditched her skirt and panties so she could covertly dispose of the makeshift pad in his trash.

When she gives him an imperious nod, Ben opens the Saran Wrap and pulls out a foot of thin cellophane. It’s the holiday version: bright red with a snowflake pattern on it. He shuffles a little closer, and Rey spreads her knees slowly. 

“I’ll just, uh. I’ll just…” he mutters, former confidence gone. 

Rey rolls her eyes. “C’mere,” she sighs, grabbing Ben by the only handle available, which is the front edge of his Fruit of the Looms. He comes (and not, Rey hopes, before he even gets down to it). 

But his dumb look of gratification inspires Rey to lean up and kiss the expression off his face. While he’s nuzzling the corners of her mouth, Rey gets the Saran Wrap from him and manages to spread it more or less wrinkle-free over her crotch.

She feels a little bit like a piece of raw meat he’s preparing to tenderize. And he’s got his work cut out for him, because Ben’s desk, in the full view of his Doctor Who Funkos, is not the most romantic spot for a liaison, and Saran Wrap is not the most alluring lingerie she’s ever worn.

But Ben’s lips are soft and mobile, catching wherever he can press them: her throat, her ears, the point of her jaw. It feels like caring, and Rey relaxes under his attention and the growing noise of his breathing. 

His hands are restless too; he picks them up as though he doesn’t know where he should put them and places them again on the desk, her elbows, her knees. She doesn’t want to discourage him when he finally lifts a tentative palm to cover a breast (and most of her torso as well — the man’s hands are  _ large _ ), but the girls are tender and she really wishes he’d follow through with his promise to put his mouth on her. She feels very bossy when she tells him as much, but he nods solemnly at her instructions. 

Without any more hesitation, he hoists her knees over his shoulders and leans in. 

Rey isn’t sure what to expect about the cellophane aspect: sex with a condom just feels like sex, as far as she’s concerned, but will oral with a big sheet of Saran Wrap over her puss still feel like oral? 

Yes and no, she decides as Ben runs his tongue in a wide sweep across her. His mouth is still warm and his lips are still a mixture of firm and yielding. She thinks he’s probably pretty good at this, normally. He tries to sweep his tongue around her entrance, but the plastic wrap gets tangled up in his teeth. He looks up at her apologetically through those long, dark eyelashes and presses a chaste kiss right below her clit. Then wraps his lips around it.

There’s no real reason for him to get fancy with a square foot of cellophane between them. So he holds her hips in a firm grip and keeps his mouth directly where she wants it. And the suction comes right through—yes it does. His technique is unornamented and honest and revealing, just like Ben. 

After only a few moments of Ben’s attention, she’s shifting her hips and holding onto his head by his hair. It’s noisier like this; not just the crinkle of the plastic wrap, but the pants of his breath between her legs and the wet noises of the cellophane sliding over skin. 

When she comes, she feels knotted muscles loosening in her body, the tight feeling of her skin dissolving into warm shivers. She doesn’t think she pulls out too much of Ben’s hair. And instead of feeling tired, she feels energized. She could run around the block. She could climb a building. She could go another round with Ben Solo. 

“Did you happen to buy condoms with the cellophane?” Rey asks Ben, whose eyes light up over her hipbones as though Rey’s just announced Santa’s arrival. He ducks away and rustles in his shopping bag to produce a 50-ct package of condoms, presenting them for her inspection as though delivering a sacrifice.

Then he clears his throat. “I can pull up my medical records,” he offers. Rey gives him a cautiously encouraging look. “And the first day of your period is an unlikely…” Rey raises an eyebrow at him. “Um.” Rey raises the second eyebrow. “Um. Babies. No. Because science,” he finishes. 

“How much reading did you do on your phone about period sex just now?” she asks him, curious.

“Like, a lot. A lot a lot,” he confesses. “I almost got in an accident in the CVS parking lot.” 

Rey grins at him. “I have an implant. But I’m glad to hear you’ve got an inquiring mind.” 

Ben cheerfully tosses the condoms over his shoulder and leans back over her, peeling his briefs over his hard-on with careful hands. It’s…big. Bigger than she’s dealt with before. Almost intimidatingly big, but the whole situation has been building up Rey’s feelings of competency, and on a day where she’s gone from no tampons to oral sex tribute, taking Ben’s giant cock is just another small milestone in her journey of self-actualization. 

He lifts her left leg over his hip and lines himself up for a slow, careful glide that seems to never end. 

He gives a little grunt when his balls are finally resting against her ass, and his exhale presses his warm, wide stomach against Rey’s. And the dick is great, sure, lovely dick, nice dick, but the heat and pressure against her uterus? Fantastic. So healing. She wants Ben to come and lie on top of her every 28 days, indefinitely. 

He brushes her hair off the shell of her ear and murmurs directly against it.

“I like how it feels,” he breathes. 

Rey’s response is only to whimper and dig the heel of her foot into the hard mound of his buttocks. 

Ben grabs the further edge of the desk and lines up his pubic bone with her clit. She tilts her head back far enough that Ben can capture her mouth one more time. He thrusts his tongue into her mouth then follows it with a synchronized stroke of his cock. 

He grinds further into her, and Rey moans her encouragement. She lifts her other leg around his waist and squeezes him hard as she can. Her uterus is being a little bitch this month, and she really hopes Ben will bang it into submission. 

The best thing about Ben, she decides, is that he understands her body language. Because as soon as she has both heels digging into his ass, he quickly lets go of all restraint and just rails her against the desk.

Its obscenely wet. It’s unbelievably messy. It’s entirely satisfying. 

The desk shakes, and he sweats on top of her, and his cock slides against her again and again until she sinks her teeth into his shoulder and comes as hard as she ever has. She doesn’t think he entirely expected it, because he says her name in a garbled yell and comes on his next stroke. 

It’s already trickling warm and messy on her thigh before he pulls out, but they both make the mistake of looking down when he pulls away. 

He’s put up a brave face through all of this, but his dick looks like he’s been to battle with it. He’s a little pale. 

Rey lets out an ostentatious sigh. “Twenty-six is late to lose your virginity, but I’m glad that’s over with,” she says, stretching her back. “Not as bad as everyone said. I don’t  _ think _ I’ll need an ice pack.” 

“W-what?” Ben asks, his eyes flying open in shock. His mouth gapes open. If anything, he goes paler.

Rey keeps up the ruse for a few seconds longer until she can’t keep her face straight. Then she howls with laughter. 

Ben makes as though to pick up his clothes and leave, pretends great offense, but she grabs his shoulder and buries her face in his chest. She laughs so hard she cries. Her lungs are burning, and she’s definitely going to feel what they just did tomorrow, but her body is warm and content where she presses it against Ben’s. 

“Thank you,” she finally says. “Thank you a thousand times. This was exactly what I needed.” 

His shoulders relax as though he’s letting out a breath he’s held the entire time she’s been in his office.

“Anytime,” he says.

* * *

Some time later, Rey is seated comfortably in Ben’s lap with her chocolate Haagen-Dazs in her mouth, her predator/prey nature videos streaming on Ben’s computer, and Ben’s large hands supporting her breasts. 

Ben hums appreciatively as a cheetah family brings down their first gazelle, and Rey directs the next spoonful of ice cream over her shoulder into his mouth. He slurps it with noisy enjoyment. 

With that, Rey comes to a decision. 

The CVS clerk isn’t the only person in the world who thinks Ben could have a girlfriend. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Kinkshame me @YTCShepard


End file.
